TWENTY NINE
The Ships of Longmachlag Bay
A weary numbness broke over Kaetha and she forgot the people around her or where they were going. Someone held a cup to her lips but the drink was bitter and she only managed a sip before spitting out the rest. Too tired to sit up, she lay back and all she knew was the dusky sky above her, the sunset stealing away all the light.
She heard the crunch of shingle before realising that she was walking. Someone’s arm was around her.
“Infuse these and make her drink the lot,” said Kahina. “It will give her strength.”
Is that what I need? Strength? Kaetha thought. Stones dug into her knees and her hands found the scratchy leaves of a cluster of plants which broke through the shingle. The others were all talking about her. They didn’t seem to be looking. So she focussed on her Fire magic, drawing the strength from these plants into herself. They browned and shrivelled before her as she felt energy flowing warm through her blood. She reached out to a patch of fresh leaves, wanting more of their life for herself, but something nipped her finger and she drew her hands away. A brown mouse scurried away. Tam. She got to her feet.
“How are you feeling, Kaetha?” asked Naru.
She wondered if Tam had been reprimanding her for drawing life from a living thing or warning her that Naru might notice. Brownish powder, finer than sand, fell from her hands in the breeze. “Better. I think.”
She only now noticed the three huge ships, mighty timber fortresses, anchored in the bay.
“We’re here at last,” said Asrid, hugging Margaret. “Another chance at life. And it’s because of you, Kaetha.” She hugged her too.
“Let the poor lass breathe, Asrid,” said Margaret.
A rowing boat came from one of the ships, its rower’s task being to ferry passengers.
Kaetha received hugs and handshakes and exchanged bows with so many silent ones that her neck grew stiff.
“Thank you for all your help, Kahina,” she said. Kahina began to bow her head but Kaetha embraced her. She turned to Naru. “About what happened back at Neul Carraig – the fire - I—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Branna was disappointed in me, wasn’t she?”
“Your gift is strong and you do need to learn to control it better. But don’t be hard on yourself, that won’t help. I only wish I had the time to teach you more. Perhaps someday, if we meet again.”
“I hope so.”
They were the last few to leave and Kaetha, Donnan and Mairi stood together, watching the rowing boat take them away. “Fair wind to your sails,” called Kaetha, waving.
“I’m almost envious,” said Donnan. “I quite like the idea of sailing off to lands I’ve never seen.”
“Didn’t you once say that you could never have imagined leaving Mormuin?” asked Kaetha.
“That can’t have been me,” he said, grinning.
“I dreamt that you went off to a new life with them, Kaetha,” said Mairi. “Somewhere where the mark on your face meant nothing. Where you would be free from suspicion . . . safe. Only they wouldn’t let me go with you.”
“But you’d still have had Donnan,” said Kaetha. “In the dream.”
“You think I’d have let you go without me?” said Donnan. “I’d have cut my cheek and persuaded them I was a witch too. I’d have cut open a toad to tell their fortunes, eaten its brain and told them what the toad had been thinking before it died, boiled up a potion with a lock of a bride’s hair, the tooth of a black cat, and the fingernails of a dying man. Would that convince those eejits, Kit?” He turned to face her and his smile faded. “You’re looking pale again. Do you still feel unwell?”
“I’m just tired. I’ll be fine. We still have an hour or so before dark, we could probably make it to the first village beyond Longmachlag.” Even as she said it, she wondered if she had the strength. Along the shore, a grey-haired couple stood gazing at the ships, their shoulders stooped as if they bore the weight of many troubles.
“No,” said Mairi. “We’ll find somewhere here to stop for the night. You need rest.”
“I didn’t mean to overhear,” said the man, “but if you need a place to stay for the night, you can share our cottage.” He nodded towards a small, stone building at the edge of the beach.
“Thank you,” said Mairi. “You’re very kind.”
They followed the couple to their small dwelling.
“I’m Aleas Murchad,” said the woman, moving a fallen lobster pot out of the way of the door, “and this is my husband, Arran.”
Sitting down around the hearth, they introduced themselves and Mairi asked to brew the herbs for Kaetha.
“Our son, Bruce, would have made you a good remedy,” said Aleas.
“He’s on one of the ships?” asked Donnan.
She nodded, studying her hands on her lap.
Arran took one of her hands in his. “It was a difficult decision. But for the best. Lost count of the times he came home with a black eye. Once it was a broken rib. They said he summoned bad weather and sent away the fish.”
“Ignorant bastards,” said Aleas through gritted teeth.
“A new start for him then,” said Mairi.
Meraud’s face haunted Kaetha’s dreams. In one, it was she who came to her through the water and clawed her arm with a sharp, poisoned nail. She woke with a tugging sensation in the pit of her stomach and a shiver that crept over her skin, making her wonder if she was going to
